


Everything

by Davys_dead



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Pining, baz's friendship with Dev And Niall needs to be fully explored, i wrote this and now i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:38:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davys_dead/pseuds/Davys_dead
Summary: No one tells you about unrequited love when you’re a kid. No one sits you down and says that the person you love might not always love you back. Instead they tell you about princes and princesses, love at first sight. They tell you how love is a beautiful thing. They tell you that you’ll find someone who will love you through and through, till death, etc. they leave out the heartache. They leave out the possibility of pain so deep you can hear it in your bloodstream.And Baz is in love: so deeply, painfully in love. And the thought of him, his roomate. The thought of his ungodly hair and his moles, and his perpetually open mouth… it tears him apart.





	Everything

**Author's Note:**

> i've never given much though to dev and nail as characters and now i want to write a 30 chapter fic about them and Baz just doing dumb shit. Hope y'all like this one! (i already posted it on my tumblr which is @davys-dead btw)

Baz hadn’t thought it would be like this. Love, falling in love… He hadn’t expected it to be so violent, so out there, so present. It wasn’t what he thought it would be. He did know it could be so painful. Bone Deep; Soul deep.

  No one tells you about unrequited love when you’re a kid. No one sits you down and says that the person you love might not always love you back. Instead they tell you about princes and princesses, love at first sight. They tell you how love is a beautiful thing. They tell you that you’ll find someone who will love you through and through, till death, etc. they leave out the heartache. They leave out the possibility of pain so deep you can hear it in your bloodstream.

  And Baz is in love: so deeply, painfully in love. And the thought of him, his roomate. The thought of his ungodly hair and his moles, and his perpetually open mouth… it tears him apart.

 

  “Snow,” Baz is sitting at his desk in their room, working on the large stack of homework assigned by Miss Possibelf today. As usual, Simon Snow comes barging loudly into the room with no regard for his roommate, “Would it kill you to enter a room like a normal person for once?”

  Simon drops his coat on the floor and shakes some water out of his hair, “Normal as in Normal?... or normal?”

  “Like a human being you dog,” Baz wipes some of Snow’s stray droplets off of his face.

  “You’re no more of a human being than I am, Dracula.”

  “Classical literature. Didn’t expect that out of you, Snow.”

  “Would you prefer I call you Edward?”

  “Do you want me to push you down the stairs again?” Baz asks, raising his eyebrow but still refusing to look up from his book. Simon merely sighs and toes his shoes off before promptly falling backwards into his matress.

  Baz really shouldn’t allow himself to enjoy these conversations. The quippy ones when Snow’s much too tired to care about fighting and Baz doesn’t have it in him to go for the low blows. Conversations where he can pretend- if only for a moment- that if he laughed and held Simon after. If he got up and kissed his temple and held him close. It would be allowed… He doesn’t allow himself to wallow for too long though… but then who is he kidding, all he ever does is wallow. And pine. And _wish._

 

  “Honestly, Baz, it’s like you’ve given up on him completely.” Dev is laying across his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst throwing smarties in the air, trying to catch them in his mouth. Baz and Niall are sitting on the floor playing war with a deck of cards Niall borrowed from the library.

  “I haven’t _given up._  I just thought he could use a break. It’s no fun to pick on someone who’s constantly being picked on by someone else. I’m an antagoniser… not a bully.”

  Niall throws down a king, beating Baz’s measly two, “Who else is he being bullied by?”

  “ _Picked on._ ”

  “Ah, well picked on, then.”

  “The Mage. The Humdrum.”

  Dev’s newest smartie misses his mouth as he turns his head to look at Baz, “The Humdrum picks?”

  Baz rolls his eyes, “I can’t very well say the chosen one’s getting sucked on by the Humdrum, can I?

  Niall shrugs, “You could, but I think it would get you some strange looks.”

  “I’ll never be able to have a civilized conversation with you lads, will I?”

  Dev snorts, “We can’t all be Penelope Bunce, highest our class.”

  “ _Second highest_ ,” Baz says, as he and Niall place down three cards each.

  “All I’m saying is, people are going to think you’ve gone soft. The great Baz Pitch… the _perfectly_ _ok_ Baz Pitch playing card games instead of plotting his newest scheme.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Snow yourself, Dev.”

  “Is it so bad to sound like the Mage’s Heir?”

  “Yes. When the Mage’s Heir barely sounds like anything at all.”

  Niall scoops up the cards he’s won. He’s far too good at this for a game of chance, “Snow can speak, Baz.”

  “In what language? Not English, surely.”

  Dev rolls over on the bed so he’s laying on his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms, “You’re spending far too much time teasing Simon with us instead of to his face.”

  “And we all know how much you love his face,” Niall mumbles under his breath.

  “You’re all worse than Snow,” Baz says, standing up and brushing of his pant legs, “Now, are we going to football practice or not?”

 

  There are so many times when Snow is watching Baz when he thinks Baz can’t see him. Barely hiding behind a column. Sitting under a tree off the to side of the football pitch. In their room, when Baz is focused on his homework. He thinks he’s being subtle, that Baz isn’t constantly attuned to him. But it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

  As Baz passes the ball up the pitch, his midfielder right where he needs him, he can see Snow in the very back of the bleachers, watching. And Baz can’t help but wish he’s there for _him_ . Logically, he knows Snow really is there _for_ him. To watch. To keep tabs on him. But Baz wishes he’s there because he wants to see him. Because he wants to wait until practice is over and bound down the steps… right into Baz’s arms. Because, in this crazy, alternate universe where things go his way… Simon Snow loves him back.

 

  Their room is quiet when Baz walks in after a late visit to the catacombs. The moon shines through the open window and onto Snow’s bed, bathing him in its pale glow. He practically shimmers in the shine of it all. And in that moment, Baz really wants to flip off the moon.

  He sighs and walks into the bathroom. After washing his face and hands he dries them roughly on a towel, trying to wake himself up. Rub off this entirely impractical want for a boy who can barely function. But really who is Baz kidding… he can barely function either.

  Simon’s sitting up in bed when Baz exits the bathroom, and really Baz could melt from it all, “I’m not going to pretend I don’t know why you’re back late.”

  Baz sighs and he’s so tired. He’s so utterly and completely done. With this. With all of it. With the old families, and the humdrum, and the mage, and the _fucking_ moon, and with moles and blue eyes... and with   _pretending_ . He is so done with pretending, “I was in the catacombs,” he sits down on his bed and loosens his tie enough to raise it over his head, “I was in the catacombs and I was drinking… I was drinking the _blood_ , the fucking life force out of rats in front of my mother’s grave…” he puts his head in his hands. And he cries. Aleister Crowley, he _cries._ Because he just _drank the blood out of rats in front of his mother’s grave._  And the weight of it all crashes into him. Because he’s never really said it out loud before.

  “Baz,” Snow’s voice is so close and so quiet, but it breaks through the tears and Baz won’t allow himself to be seen like this. To be seen so weak.

  He stands up quickly and clears his throat, “I have to go,” and he’s walking towards the door with this purpose. With the drive to be anywhere but crying in front of his roomate whom he is hopelessly, and unfalteringly in love with… but Simon grabs his wrist. And he pulls him back. And Baz thinks he might kiss him. He’s already ruined everything. Every semblance of composure he ever had.

And Simon pulls him closer and closer until they’re a breath apart.

Until it’s just breath.

And Simon closes the distance like its nothing.

But to Baz…

to Baz it’s _everything._

  Baz’s arms find their way around Simon’s waist as they pull them impossibly closer. Until everything is _them_. And Simon kisses him like he’s done it before. He pushes into Baz with everything. With every word he couldn’t say. With every spell that didn’t work. With every moment they weren’t in this exact position drinking each other in like it was the first time either of them had seen water in years.

  And in a second when Simon pulls back to look into Baz’s eyes… Baz swears he can see the stars in Simon’s.


End file.
